


Closed Doors, Open Windows

by peridotsarelongterm



Category: Warlock (1959), Warlock (film 1959), Warlock (novel)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cowboys, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Eventual Smut, F/M, Families of Choice, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hand Jobs, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Delay, Outdoor Sex, POV Alternating, Past Violence, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Sexism, Reader Insert, Romance, Secret Identity, Size Kink, Skinny Dipping, Slow Burn, Smut, Unofficial Sequel, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Western, Wild West, phrenology, romantic smut, should be able to read without seeing the film
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24983278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peridotsarelongterm/pseuds/peridotsarelongterm
Summary: Set after the events of the western movie Warlock. Curley is a lonely outlaw going to California in search of a new family and honest work for a change. A reader with a secret of her own finds him. A friends-to-lovers slow(ish) burn about finding love (and smut) in unexpected places.Should be readable with or without seeing the film. Smut chapters are marked with **.
Relationships: Curley Burne/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	1. Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Curley-centric sequel I wish we’d gotten for Warlock (1959). This should be readable without seeing the movie, BUT the movie is free on YouTube (e.g., https://youtu.be/8aaYQThZddc) if anyone does want to watch it.
> 
> If you’re a fan of Star Trek TOS, FYI that Curley was played by DeForest Kelley (hence the references to him bouncing :) ).
> 
> Also - I really hope I handled the cross-dressing aspect of my one character ok. This isn’t something I have a lot of experience w/ personally, so I’m very open to feedback.

Curley leaned against the charred post of what had been the French Palace saloon and watched Clay Blaisedell ride away, looking as broken as the slew of failed deputies Curley and the other San Pablo Cowboys had once jeered and chased off down the same street. The only difference this time was the marshal had finished the job he’d been hired for and was showing himself out.

Curley took a long drag on his cigarette and sighed. Warlock would never be the same. The whole feel of the town had already changed. This wasn’t a bad thing altogether. If he was honest (and he usually was), the town had long outgrown any use it had ever had for the Cowboys. Abe McQuown, their leader and his best friend, hadn’t been able to accept that and had tried to beat the town into submission, dispatching Curley and the rest of them to town every week as “Regulators,” with the express purpose of raising hell to prove his authority. But Pony Benner finally shot one barber too many, so the townspeople pooled their funds to hire Blaisedell, a notorious gunman, to provide some not-quite-legal law enforcement.

It seemed to Curley that the medicine was almost worse than the disease - especially once Blaisedell’s vicious paramour Tom Morgan had gotten involved - but it had worked, and the town was now in remission.

Within the next fortnight, the shell-shocked faces around him would relax and the town would start rebuilding, this time with a solid leader - Johnny Gannon, himself a former San Pabloite - as sheriff. If you’d told Curley a year ago how things would end up, he’d have laughed in your face.

There wasn’t much to laugh about now, though. Curley was a hard worker, but never just for the sake of staying busy. There had to be a purpose, or else what was the point? Keeping Abe from going off the deep end entirely had been enough of a purpose for the last few years, but Abe didn’t need him up at Boot Hill. None of the Cowboys did - the only one who wasn’t in either the cemetery or the state pen now was Johnny, and Blaisedell’s old flame Lily seemed more than happy to take care of him.

Johnny offered him a job as his deputy. He didn’t take it. It was a kind gesture, but Curley had no interest in being a lawman, especially in a town that, understandably, didn’t fully trust him. He definitely couldn’t see spending another minute at the San Pablo ranch, with only the stolen cattle and memories to keep him company. He had some kin in Georgia, but it had been 16 years since he’d left, and he’d gotten far too used to the relative freedom of the West to stomach a return to the South.

The most appealing prospect was continuing West. The land grants of south California still held opportunity for a man who knew how to handle cattle, and it could be far enough from Warlock that his reputation wouldn’t precede him and he could get some honest work for a change. And if that didn’t work out, there was always less honest work, like the kind he’d found in Utah. Most of all, he hoped to find the kind of friends he’d had at San Pablo before Abe had lost his way, and before Rattlesnake Canyon had happened and everything had really gone to hell.

Curley stayed in town a few more days, making his goodbyes to Johnny and Lily and his friends in Boot Hill. On Monday morning, he boarded the train to Goodsprings, Nevada, ultimately bound for California, where he hoped better luck awaited him. Johnny asked him to let him know when he arrived safely.

“Write when you find what it is you’re lookin’ for,” Johnny said. “Let us know you get there alright. And take care of yourself, Curley.”


	2. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - Curley 
> 
> Curley arrives in California, but it’s a bit different from what he expected. Our cowboy has some decisions to make.

Curley hadn’t known the railroad only went as far as Victor, a scrubby little town on the plains below the San Bernardino Mountains. Crews were laying track through the pass, but for now, he’d need to take the stage if he wanted to go farther. Curley looked up at the mountains and imagined being jostled around the winding roads. Then he looked behind him at the bleak terrain. Warlock was in a desert, too, but this was different. Instead of bold red peaks and canyons, it was lifeless beige as far as the eye could see, with only Joshua trees to break the monotony. It was very different from the picture Matt Burbage had painted of San Francisco, and he wondered if oceans and cities could even exist beyond all this.

Curley lit a cigarette and mulled it over. The stage didn’t leave until the morning. He could take the afternoon to decide. In the meantime, he’d check out the town, and what better place to start than with a drink? Stepping off the station platform, he headed for Main Street.

~~~~~~~

For a town in as much need of alcohol as Victor, its idea of a saloon looked like more of an afterthought. Its one long, shabby room wasn’t nearly as grand as the French Palace even before Morgan had taken over, though it was fair competition for what Blaisedell had left behind. A roulette wheel collected dust in the corner and a forlorn trio played cards at a table while a bored-looking barkeep slouched behind the counter. There may have been women upstairs, but at this rate, Curley didn’t want to find out.

Maybe it was Curley’s whistling or his cheerful swagger, but when the barkeep saw him, he immediately sprang to life, greeting him in a high, nasally voice. “Well, howdy! Ain’t seen you in here before. What can I getcha?”

Startled, Curley replied, “Uh, whiskey, I guess.” He took off his hat and wiped the inside with his handkerchief.

The barkeep reached down and produced a dusty bottle and glass. “You new to town, son, or just passin’ through?”

Curley shrugged. “Haven’t decided yet. Thought I’d have a look around first.”

“You’ll be takin the stage through the mountains, then,” the barkeep interrupted with a laugh. He shook his head. “You’re of stronger stomach than I am, sonny. I’d just as soon stay here and drink old Jed’s rotgut as trust that rickety old casket around those turns.”

A snort resounded behind him. “Well, Gene knows he might get drunk on my stuff, unlike that water he calls bourbon.”

Gene huffed and Curley smiled. It wasn’t much of a crowd, but they seemed friendly. He took his bottle and glass and went to see if he could get in on the game.

The men at the table were an unusual alliance - an older white man in overalls (the one he assumed was Jed), a middle-aged man in a nice suit, who looked like he might have Mexican heritage, and a third who was significantly smaller, with baggy clothes and delicate features that would’ve earned him an unflattering nickname at San Pablo. Curley would’ve sooner expected to see such a man behind the window of a bank or teaching a wealthy boys’ school, not dressed as a laborer and swilling whiskey. Jed nudged out a chair for Curley and spoke up.

“Hope you don’t mind, son, but word travels fast here. Hear you’re new in town. Lookin’ for work?”

“Could be,” Curley replied.

“Well, if you decide you are,” Jed continued, “I’m down a man at my sawmill - Doc here’ll probably tell you about it...bit of an injury.”

The well-dressed man murmured something that sounded like “lisiado,” and Curley winced, but Jed kept going. “Anyway, work’s available if you want it. Room and board and $7 a week on top of that. You got any experience in woodworking, son?” he asked.

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Curley responded. “But I’ve been called a fast learner.” He noticed the smaller man quietly studying him with Y/E/C eyes.

“Well, $7 a week and found, then, at least to start. If you’re agreeable to that, you can ride back with us tonight.”

Curley thought back to what Gene had said about those mountain roads again and considered. Nothing said he had to stay here, and if this didn’t pan out, he’d at least have some extra money and a break from traveling before going on. He shook Jed’s hand.


	3. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - Curley, then Reader
> 
> Curley meets his new coworkers and we meet our Reader.
> 
> (Stick with me here, I promise the burn gets less slow soon. :) )

Jed’s sawmill was in a nearby village called Appleton. It was closer to the mountains than Victor, and he did a good business selling lumber from the hills to the new mining towns sprouting up all over the valley. He provided some other supplies as well, including the homemade whiskey Gene had alluded to.

Despite his penchant for making and consuming grain alcohol, Jed was well regarded throughout the region and had a solid reputation for being generous and fair. The man Curley had been hired to fill in for, Fred, had been injured in the installation of the new millstone. Where most bosses would have dropped him (and Abe McQuown might’ve injured him further), Jed had paid for his doctoring and ensured a job would still be waiting for him when he made it back on his feet (and that he was housed, fed, and cared for in the interim). There were several other faces as well, and Curley noticed that all seemed happy to be there and to meet him.

Curley had been partly right about the other man in the card game. Y/M/N (or Little Y/M/N, as Jed called him) was a carpenter, but he seemed to mainly assist with the books and driving the delivery wagon. Curley still wondered about him. A man that delicate would’ve had to go to some lengths to prove himself at San Pablo. He guessed it was just more proof of his new boss’ character, though Jed assured him benevolence had nothing to do with it.

“Lil Y/M/N?” Jed said. “He’s small, but he gets the job done as well as any of them. Smart as a whip and scrappy, too. Don’t let his size fool you, he’s not one to pick a fight with.”

Curley nodded. He may have been McQuown’s self-appointed shit-stirrer back in Utah, but he could tell already there was no need for that skillset here. He wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but in the few hours he’d been at the mill, he felt more at ease than he had in years at San Pablo. There had long been a tension there; even if no one was fighting (a rare event in itself), the weight of McQuown’s victim complex had hung over the ranch like a fog, and there were days most of the hands (even he himself) walked on eggshells. This place felt calm and welcoming, and though he had only just arrived and wasn’t sure how long he’d stay, he already had a strong suspicion he was going to enjoy his time here. If this was to be life in California, Curley was more than willing to count his days of courting trouble as behind him.

~~~~~~~~

  
You overheard Jed giving his new hire the rundown on how things worked at the mill, including you, and you couldn’t help but smirk. He didn’t know the half of it, and that was probably just as well.

The “Little” part of your name was an invention of Jed himself, who had thought it a wise addition when you’d hired on as Y/M/N, the masculine form of your name, instead of Y/N. Fewer people would remark on your stature, he’d said, if you just got it out of the way up front with a nickname. You compensated further by wearing a hat and loose clothes to supplement the binding you used underneath to hide your body’s curves. Times had been hard for years now - the region had never fully recovered from the drought of ‘64 - and it wasn’t uncommon to see men who were shorter and less muscular than the average Easterner. If anyone did think anything amiss, they held enough respect for your boss - and you - to let it go.

For you, it was a means to an end. With only your mother’s earnings to get by on, your family hadn’t had much, and what little she left when she passed was snatched up by your brothers en route to the gold fields up north. You had neither the training to teach nor the desire to take in laundry or sew, and the idea of ending up like your mom, struggling to provide alone for three children, or the kind of early death all too common for women who worked in the saloons left you cold. Having to hide your identity like this was an awful price to pay, but it bought a living wage, independence, and respect, not to mention the possibility of even inheriting the business from Jed when he passed on.

What Curley didn’t realize was that the Victor Valley wasn’t as disconnected from Utah as he’d hoped. The railroad brought all kinds of people west, and it was from listening to them talk that you put together the pieces on this mysterious new hire - one of the infamous Abe McQuown’s band of cattle thieves who had so tormented a small town that they’d nearly bankrupted themselves to bring in a shady hired gun to defend them. Jed believed strongly in second chances and joked that a cattle thief probably wouldn’t have much luck roping lumber, but you intended to keep your eyes wide open. McQuown had a reputation as one of the most brutal outlaws west of Texas, even being accused of mass murder, and you hadn’t worked this hard in life to be stabbed in your bunk by his protégé.


	4. Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - Reader
> 
> Reader finds out she’s going to be spending a lot more time with Curley, and she’s not super happy about it.

A few weeks later, after a quick meeting to discuss the books, Jed made an announcement on his way out the door - you were getting a delivery partner. And not just any partner - the new piece of work you’d been doing your best to keep a respectful distance from.

“Hold on, what was that last part?” you asked.

Jed sighed. He’d been hoping to make it out of the room before you processed what he’d said. “There’s been reports of road agents between here and Calico, Y/M/N,” he said. “This is an expensive order. I want you to take a backup in case it’s needed.”

“I’ve gone farther than that without a partner,” you protested. “I can handle myself.”

“Y/N, this isn’t about that,” Jed said, calling you by your feminine name to indicate he knew what you were getting at. “There’s a lot riding on this order, and one gun is no match for four or five. It’s too much risk for one man alone - any one man. Not to mention a good bookkeeper is hard to find. No, Y/N. My mind’s made up.”

You sighed. “But why HIM?” you asked.

“Not much choice,” Jed replied. “Fred’s still laid up, and Lars with a gun is as much danger to you as he is to outlaws. Phil’s daddy’s in a bad way. You’re just gonna have to make the best of it.”

“I don’t suppose you could go?”

“Heh, you don’t trust him with a wagon, but you ‘spect me to leave the whole mill at his mercy for 8 hours?”

His voice softened. “It’ll be ok, Y/N,” he said. “If Burne was going to be trouble, he’d have shown it by now. And if by chance I’m wrong, I know you, and he’ll be worse off than Fred. Besides, it sounds like from what you’ve told me, he has some experience with highwaymen. Might be that’ll come in handy...he’ll know how to handle ‘em.”

You dropped it, knowing further argument would be useless, and got back to work. Jed was right - you’d proven more than a few times that you could take care of yourself, and Burne hadn’t really done anything out of line since he’d been there. It was more the uneasiness of the unknown. The others had been around you long enough that they either believed your disguise or didn’t really care. With Burne, it was too soon to tell, and you’d seen men as cheerful as him turn mean when they learned something they didn’t like. It wasn’t until later that night, when you laid down to sleep, that you allowed your poker face to relax and wondered what the next day would bring.


	5. Out in the Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - Reader, then Curley, then Reader again
> 
> Things between the Reader and Curley start off well but take a very sharp turn after that.

The next morning, you and Curley hitched up a team and set out for Calico with your wagon full of lumber and supplies.

Even though you were more on guard than usual, he was a pleasant enough traveling companion. You were more conscious of using your voice’s lower register when answering any questions, but he seemed mostly content to take in the scenery, sitting with one long leg hitched up and rolling cigarette papers. You hadn’t paid it much mind earlier, but he really wasn’t bad-looking...middle 30s, you guessed, with brown hair, an easy smile, and expressive blue eyes. A nice accent, too. Not that any of that mattered, you reminded yourself. You weren’t there to find yourself a beau, and even if you were, this one didn’t exactly scream stability.

You made it to Calico and back in record time with no incident. Jed was so pleased, he gave you both the afternoon off. Curley had a mind to head into town and tried to get you to go with him. After all the long, dusty drive, though, there was only one place on your mind: Deep Creek, specifically the section a short ride from the mill that had a natural hot spring. Whenever you had time and knew you wouldn’t be bothered, you made a point of going up there. As soon as you got back and finished putting the rig away, you made a beeline for your room and grabbed your soap before anyone could ask to tag along. You could shoot the breeze with Curley later if he insisted.

~~~~~~

“Y/M/N?” Curley asked, looking around the stable. The little chap had run off fast as soon as they’d finished putting the horses away. Curley had been hoping he could change his mind about going into town. Not that he was uncomfortable going alone, but it was always more pleasant to have company, and it had seemed like he’d succeeded in breaking the ice with Y/M/N. He was quiet, but quiet wasn’t a bad thing. It reminded him of his friend Johnny Gannon. He had always been content to let Curley run his mouth off, and having a friend who could listen well (and didn’t mind his teasing) was a rare and welcome thing.

The little fellow was long gone, though. Curley walked around the mill, looking for any others. He found Reuben relaxing, as was his custom when there was a lot of work to be done.

“Hey!” Curley said. “Fancy a trip to town?”

“Sorry, Curley,” Reuben said. “Got to finish another couple orders before I can call it a day. Maybe another time? What you fixin’ to do out there?”

“See what there is to see, I guess. Passed a bath house on my way here. Figured I’d get cleaned up, then head over to that saloon, and after that—“

“Well, if ya want a bath, why not just use the hot spring up the hill? It’s cleaner and it’s free.”

No one had told him about the hot spring, but Curley couldn’t argue with that reasoning. He saddled up and followed the path according to Reuben’s directions. He soon reached the creek and noticed your horse grazing in a small clearing. So this was where Y/M/N had disappeared to, he thought. The San Pabloites had all used the same water hole for bathing, so he figured you wouldn’t mind, even if you did seem to be a pretty private person. Doffing his jacket, he headed over to wash up.

~~~~~~

Once you‘d reached the pools and were satisfied you were fully out of sight, you started undressing quickly, sighing in relief as you removed your hat, the stuffy clothes, and your binding. Carefully, you stepped into the water, taking a second to get used to the heat and slight sulfur smell. After a moment, your body got used to the temperature, and you undid your bun and wetted down your hair.

You were so wrapped up in the ecstasy of the soft, fresh water on your skin that you didn’t notice the pair of wide blue eyes studying you intently until they’d seen enough to last a lifetime of lonely nights. Your eyes met, and you immediately ducked behind a rock, conscious that the jiggle of your movement probably hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Dammit, Burne,” you yelled in your voice’s normal pitch. “Did they not have privacy in Utah?”

Curley muttered an apology and headed back to the horses, cursing himself. It all made sense now, and he didn’t know why, after all his years at San Pablo, he’d missed the signs that something was different here. He also didn’t know how he’d be able to forget what he’d seen, or how he’d face you when you came back.


	6. Mitigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - Reader
> 
> After Curley’s discovery, he and the Reader talk things out.

Normally, you’d have at least taken a moment to bind your hair back up, but you were too upset. You made your way back to where you’d tied your horse and saw Curley standing with his arms crossed, a sour look on his face. Great, he couldn’t have even waited until you were back at the mill. Rolling your eyes, you sat down and started brushing your wet hair out. You could feel his eyes on you, reviewing your face and form in light of what he’d just learned. You steadied yourself for the reaction. Would it be anger or disgust this time? At least you had your gun belt nearby if it came to that.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked quietly.

You looked up, surprised by both the mildness of his tone and the inanity of the question. “I didn’t know you,” you replied. ”Why would I take that chance, especially since you keep talking about not staying long?”

“But....why?”

“Why what?”

“Well, why this kind of work? With a bunch of men and havin’ to hide—“

“What do you suggest as a better alternative for me?” you asked. “Dunno if you can tell, but my family’s not rich. I hate sewing, and I don’t have the patience to teach a bunch of 6-foot boys about countries they’ll never visit. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Gene doesn’t hire women at his place even if I did want to do that.” Curley blushed, and you felt a bit sorry for him, but you kept going.

“Look, I’m here for the same reason you probably are. It’s good pay and it’s honest work.” You saw his mouth open and you cut him off. “And before you say what I think you’re going to say, you should know that _I_ know you’re not one who should preach about honesty, Mr. ‘Regulator.’” You gave him a knowing look. Curley looked shocked and ashamed, and now you definitely knew it was time to stop.

You waited for him to respond, either to defend himself or ask another question, like why you hadn’t taken the more common road of just settling down with a husband, but he only looked down.

“Does everyone else know?” he finally asked.

“I don’t think so, but honestly I dunno,” you said. “Jed knows. The rest of ‘em haven’t asked. There’s really no reason to, though. I have my own room that comes out of my own pay, I don’t cause trouble, and I do more work than any of ‘em, and they know it.”

“True enough,” he said.

“Though we’ll see what happens if Jed does actually try to leave me the mill,” you smirked.

Curley just looked back, then exhaled and stared down for a moment.

“Well...” he began, finally looking up and meeting your eyes. “What should I call you now?” You searched his face for a sign of his usual teasing, but he seemed serious for once.

“Just Y/M/N if we’re around the others, please,” you replied. He nodded. “But if you want, and if you think you can keep it under your hat, you can call me Y/N when it’s just you and me.” You thought you saw a smile.

Curley sighed deeply. “I lived with a bunch of men for 12 years at San Pablo, Y/N,” he said. “I have no idea how you’ve managed to keep it up. Or how you can stand it.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna keep your mouth shut and not make trouble?” you asked.

An impish grin broke out on his face. “Why, on my honor, m’lady,” he drawled, and removed his hat, bowing deeply.

“Well, I guess I’m right fucked then,” you grinned, and he laughed out loud. With the tension mostly broken, the two of you headed back to the mill.


	7. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - Shared, but majority Reader
> 
> Note - brief smutty reference. Curley and the Reader get closer, and she brings him home (sorry, not in that way, that’s coming up soon, though).

After the success of the Calico trip, you and Curley became regular partners, making the rounds from the mill to Victor, Hesperia, and the other towns in the area whenever a delivery needed to be made. Silver was being struck all over the valley and towns were growing quickly, so the longer trips were becoming more frequent. On any given week, you could count on spending at least one or two full days by his side on the rig.

It was a perfect situation in Jed’s eyes. The two of you got on well, and he liked the peace of mind he got from having an additional driver on board, especially one quick with a gun. You didn’t mind, either. Your new partner loved his sarcasm, but he was respectful and considerate, and because he knew your secret, you could let your guard down a little. He was also letting his own guard down and sharing with you about his own past. This new information, plus the way he’d taken the revelation at the spring, was going a long way toward changing your mind about him. For the first time in a long while, you felt like you had a friend.

For Curley, it was a little more complicated. Not because he had any complaints about the pay or the companionship - both were good. That was the problem, though. He considered you a friend, too, and your drives together were the high point of his week. Not only did you seem to enjoy his teasing, you gave back as good as you got, and he’d sorely missed having someone he could spar with that way. Ever since that day at the spring, though, he’d been distracted, trying to push other thoughts - of what he’d seen there - out of his mind. Once, he thought he’d succeeded in pushing the memories away entirely, only to have a particularly vivid dream about you underneath him, and he woke up needing to do the laundry. Since then, he’d been careful to sneak away to take care of himself as needed, which, if he was honest, was turning out to be frequently. It never seemed to be enough, though.

The days were getting shorter at this point, and the holidays were approaching. Several of the hands had already gone home to various places in the valley to be with their families. Your custom was to ride out to Waterman, where your father lived. He hadn’t been around for a good part of your childhood, but since your brothers had moved away and your mother had passed, you and he had grown closer and formed a good, if unconventional, parent-child relationship.

You were packing your bag when Curley appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame and smirking. You bit your cheek and tried not to think about the way the dark green of his shirt made his blue eyes even brighter.

“You still around?” you asked.

“What do you think?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re staying here,” you said.

“You got train fare to Atlanta?” he laughed. You smiled. You knew that even if you had, he wouldn’t be going there. He had left Georgia after the war, having spent one long, awful teenage year in the infantry, and he had no one and nothing he cared to see there at this point.

“Besides,” he continued. “I hear Jed makes a pretty good turkey.”

“If you like the taste of snuff drippings in your dressing,” you replied. He made a face. “Okay, that settles it,” you grinned. “Pack your bag, you’re coming with me.”

“What? You would bring the notorious outlaw Curley Burne upon the Y/L/N estate?” He raised his hand in a mock swoon and quirked an eyebrow. “What will your Pa say?”

“Probably ‘how much does he have in his wallet,’” you replied with a grin. Curley laughed and bounced slightly. “I mean it, though,” you said, raising your brows. “I’d like if you came.”

“Well, then ah graciously accept,” he grinned, tipping his hat, and sauntered out, whistling a festive tune as he went.


	8. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - Reader
> 
> Note: If you’re still with me, this is the last chapter before the smuttercoaster begins.

To Curley’s surprise, the dinner went well, almost too well. Most fathers wouldn’t have appreciated their daughters bringing home a former cattle rustler, but Caleb Y/L/N wasn’t exactly a typical father. He had spent his early life at sea, later traveling the West as a medicine show barker and only recently purchasing a small farm after his health prevented him from traveling too much. Curley’s sense of humor and “sass,” as your mother would’ve called it, won him over instantly, and the two entertained each other with off-color stories until your father had had enough to drink that he threatened to involve him in a chorus of one of his obscene sea shanties. You winked and mouthed an apology to your partner as you helped the older man to his room.

“Pleasant fella you’ve got there, my dear. That one’s from the mill? Doesn’t seem like Abel’s usual serious, hard-luck type,” Caleb commented.

“You noticed,” you laughed. “Yes, Fred still isn’t too sure what to make of him.”

“Ha, don’t doubt it,” he laughed. “So, what are your plans for him? As your father, I feel I have a right to know,” Caleb asked in mock sternness.

“Don’t worry, Pa,” you said. “I know what I wrote you, but I was a little too quick to judge. He’s a good worker, and you know Jed wouldn’t keep him around if he thought he was any kind of danger—”

“I didn’t ask that,” Caleb interrupted gently, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, what are your intentions... toward him? It’s pretty clear what his are for you.”

The plainness of his words startled you. “What? You don’t mean... No, Pa. That’s just his way. He jokes around a lot.”

“I know this type better than you think, love,” Caleb replied. “Mark my words, that ain’t just joking. That’s figuring out how serious he’s allowed to be.”

You tried to think of a response to this, but you couldn’t. As awkward as you felt, and as drunk as Caleb was, you knew he wasn’t wrong.

“Think about it, my dear,” Caleb said, grinning. “I’d be happy to teach him how to provide for a family.” You both laughed, and you kissed him good night.

On your way to your own room, you caught a glimpse of Curley stretched out in an armchair, playing his harmonica. He caught your eye and smiled.

“Too loud?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “I like it. What is it?”

“Just something I used to play out at the ranch for Abe and the boys. Johnny in particular used to have trouble sleepin’, ‘specially the last couple of months he was there. He said the music helped some. Guess it got to helpin’ me, too,” he laughed.

“You miss it there, don’t you?” you asked softly.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But being out here has its advantages, too. I have much better-looking friends here, for one.” He winked and you smiled shyly, your cheeks getting warm.

“Good night, Curley,” you said.

“Good night, Y/N.” He smiled and continued playing, keeping his eyes on you as he did.

You’d been ready to dismiss your father’s teasing, but the twinkle you’d seen in your partner’s eyes gave you pause. As you shut your door behind you and blew out the lamp, you couldn’t help but wonder if what Caleb had suggested would be such a ridiculous idea after all.


	9. Delayed**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - Reader, with a bit of Curley at the end.
> 
> FINALLY SMUT. Curley’s kindness pays off for both him and the Reader.

The next morning, you and Curley said goodbye to Caleb and started back for the mill. You’d gotten a later start than planned on account of the old man’s overindulgence and Curley’s insistence on mixing up the San Pablo remedy for a hangover. The days were short now, and because the mill was a fair distance from Waterman, you had to set up camp for the night. It was warmer than usual for December, but it was still winter in the high desert. After a quick meal of leftovers, you sat by the fire, talking.

“You didn’t tell me your Pa was a pitch man,” Curley drawled. “Here I was thinking he’d always been a farmer.”

“I didn’t tell you a few things,” you smirked. “But yeah. Best snake oil in the territory. Expert in the phrenological arts, too. That paid very well for a while.”

“So why are you hauling lumber for old Jed and not following in his footsteps,” he asked.

“I didn’t inherit his gifts of persuasion, sadly. You probably could, though, if you ever get tired of this. Caleb’s already extended a job offer,” you laughed.

“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” Curley chuckled.

“It’s not hard,” you said. “You just need to remember a few things and then improvise the rest. I could probably teach you everything you’d need.”

“Oh? Such as?”

“No freebies, first of all,” you scolded. “But here” You motioned for him to remove his hat. He did, and you placed your hands on his head, resisting the urge to run them through his dark, wavy hair. Instead, you felt along his scalp, searching the various bumps and contours and pointing out a couple of items of interest.

“Hmmm. Seems easy enough,” he commented. “Can I try?”

You swallowed. “Sure,” you said. He moved behind you and flexed his hands, then placed them on your head. The heat of his fingers immediately sent a rush through you.

“Hmm. Better undo this,” he said, patting the messy, braided bun at the nape of your neck. You pulled out the pins, allowing the bun to loosen a bit. He loosened it still more, gently undoing the braid altogether until your strands were completely free. “There, that’s better,” he purred. “Here,” he motioned, sitting down and leaning against a tree trunk. “Lean back.” You reclined against his chest as he started examining your head again.

The feel of his fingers running through your hair was hypnotizing, and you had to fight down an obvious shiver of pleasure. So he was good with his hands. That figured.

He continued, running his fingertips over your skull as you had done to him. The small sighs escaping you weren’t going unnoticed, and combined with the physical contact, they were having no small effect on him. You shifted a bit suddenly and felt the evidence of his arousal pressing into your back. You gasped slightly but audibly in surprise. He cleared his throat and shifted slightly in embarrassment, trying to hide it, but you weren’t having that. You twisted around so you were facing him and trailed one hand down his chest, hoping to communicate through your look how mutual the feeling was. His eyes locked on yours, and you felt a low purr rumble under your hand.

Your message was received, and before you knew it, his mouth was crashing against yours, your hands were in each other’s hair, and he was on top of you. The weight of his lean frame pressing on you while his mouth plundered yours felt so incredibly good, and you moaned into his mouth, a little surprised by just how badly you wanted him. He moaned back, trying not to overwhelm you with his excitement. Months of yearning had built up, and now that he had his chance, he was finding it difficult to pace himself.

His hot kisses were quickly bringing you up to speed, though, judging by the way you were moving against him and grabbing the lapels of his coat to pull him in closer, if that were possible. He slid a hand under your head to support it, trailing his lips along your jaw and down to your neck, while sneaking his other hand over to the part of your chest he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since that day at Deep Creek. You had removed your binding to sleep, and he gasped when he felt your nipple through your shirt and realized he had unfettered access. He searched your eyes for approval, and you nodded.

Curley kept his eyes on yours as he slid a warm, calloused hand up your side and under your shirt. You bit your lip and whined as his fingertips grazed your skin, exploring the new territory. Taking this reaction as encouragement, he lowered his lips to your stomach, kissing and nibbling a path upward as he rolled up your top. The sighs and then moans coming out of you as his mouth reached your breasts sent a rush of blood below his belt, and he knew he was harder than he had been in years. Humming in appreciation, he used his tongue and hands to map out every square inch of flesh on your torso, circling back repeatedly to his favorite landmarks and thoroughly enjoying the reactions he was getting from you. Panting, you ground your hips against him and he growled, gripping your hip and returning the gesture so you felt his rock-hard erection pressing back into you. 

Craving more contact, you fumbled his pants open just enough to sneak a hand inside. What you found took your breath away. He was long and impressively thick, and dripping with desire. You ran your hand up and down his length slowly, teasingly, alternating between stroking and gripping.

Curley dropped his head to your shoulder and let out a desperate groan, torn between ripping your pants off and fucking you senseless then and there or begging you to finish him off. He settled for unbuttoning your pants and hitching them down enough that he could get one of his larger hands between your thighs.

The feeling of his rough fingertips teasing your folds was enough to make you cry out, and now you were the one begging as you arched into his touch. He placed his other hand on your lower stomach to still you. “Easy there, honey,” he drawled with a smile. Smirking against your mouth, he tugged your pants down further, using his other hand to spread you for better access. You whimpered as he applied more pressure, stroking your slit and teasing around the outside of your entrance. “So wet for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, quirking an eyebrow teasingly. Before you could answer, he slowly eased a finger into your heat.

You might’ve expected Curley to be good at dirty talk, but you hadn’t been prepared for the feeling of his hands on and now inside you. He seemed to know every trick, rubbing and stroking with the perfect pressure and rhythm. You rolled your hips against his touch, trembling and trying to concentrate as you continued your ministrations on his dick, twisting your wrist here and there and noting his reactions. He was hard as steel now and throbbing, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

He used the pad of his thumb to rub circles around your clit while he pumped and curled his thick fingers in and out of you. At the same time, he thrust his hips into your grip, and you could feel how close he was. The feeling of his tongue working in and out of your mouth and the thought of how another larger part would feel doing the same below your waist were enough to bring you to the brink, and a few more skillful moves of his fingers sent you over the edge. With a prolonged cry of his name against his mouth, you came hard onto his hand, arching your back as your body was overcome with pleasure. 

Curley continued moving his fingers, wanting to draw out every last sensation, but the feeling of you tight, hot, and squeezing around his fingers while your hands expertly massaged his cock was more than he could handle. Groaning your name and covering your hand with one of his, he thrust wildly into your grip, shooting hot streams of thick, creamy fluid onto your bare stomach and chest. He caught a glimpse of you watching him in fascination and thrust harder, groaning as he completely unloaded on you.

When he finally calmed down, he looked down at you in awe before kissing you with an intensity unlike his usual smooth, collected confidence.

Curley gently cleaned you up and then pulled you back against himself again. The two of you lay quietly enjoying the afterglow, you stretched out across his chest and him drawling sweet, soft things as the occasional star shot by overhead and the fire crackled nearby. The warm softness of your body fit inside his arms and around his frame perfectly, and every so often, your lips would meet for a slow, sensual kiss full of strong emotions that neither of you could verbalize but so badly wanted the other to hear somehow.

Just before his eyes closed, Curley realized it had been many days now since he’d felt lonely or homesick, and he knew exactly why. More than anything, he hoped you felt the same way about him.


	10. Wide Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - Reader, then Curley
> 
> Light smut at the beginning. On the way back to the mill, easygoing Curley starts to self-sabotage.

You woke later than you’d planned the next morning. The sun was already up, and from its position in the sky, you guessed it was probably after 7. The other men would be returning to the mill soon, if they weren’t there already, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before the rig you’d borrowed to go to your father’s house (not to mention the two of you) was missed.

“Shit!” You exclaimed, sitting up with a start.

“Shh, it’s okay,” a deep voice murmured, and you felt strong arms wrap around you while lips and stubble nuzzled your neck just below the ear. The memories of the night before came flooding back, and a rush bolted through you as you realized your shirt was still rolled up and your jeans still unbuttoned. You allowed Curley to pull you back down under the warm blankets for a few more moments, his familiar scent of tobacco and spice sending a second punch of arousal through your core. He held you tightly against his front, continuing to press hot, scratchy kisses up and down your neck and then to your mouth when you turned to face him. His hand trailed lazily down your side, coming to rest on your bare waist. Your face got hot, and he grinned broadly.

“Sleep okay?” you asked.

“You know I did,” he grinned. “Did you?”

“Can’t complain,” you teased.

“Now is that the best you can say?” Flipping you on your back with a grin, he continued kissing down your neck, aiming for your chest. You moaned, and he answered with a groan and a thrust of his hips.

“Curley, the sun’s up!” you protested, only half serious. “What if someone comes by and sees?”

“Maybe they’ll learn something,” he mumbled, his tongue swirling around a nipple while his free hand roamed up and down your body. He felt your nipple stiffen in his mouth and his own body throbbed in response. You felt the familiar hardness pressing against your core and were ready to agree with him when you really did hear some wheels in the distance. Growling in disappointment, Curley reluctantly rolled to the side and got up to pack things up. He shot you a look first, though, indicating that he fully intended to raise the topic again as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

~~~~~~~~

The two of you drove along in peaceable silence for a while, you handling the reins while he relaxed next to you, cigarette in his hand and right leg hitched up next to him.

“I hope Jed’s not too sore about us being late,” you said.

“A few hours ain’t gonna kill anyone,” Curley mused. “It was Christmas, for pity’s sake.”

“Still,” you said. “I hate takin’ advantage.”

“You take advantage?” Curley asked. “Y/N, you’re the hardest worker he has. That mill couldn’t run without you.”

“Ha,” you scoffed, smiling.

“I mean it.” He said. “You probably would’ve been runnin San Pablo by now, and half of Warlock, too.”

You laughed. “Not sure your friend Abe would’ve liked that.”

“Abe wouldn’t have liked a lot of things,” he laughed.

You laughed, too, and drove on...

“Would you ever want anything different, Y/N?” Curley asked.

“Different how?”

“From what you’ve got right now. I know Jed pays you well, but do you want to stay in Victor, at the mill?”

You shrugged. You hadn’t really thought that far ahead, though you definitely had hopes and dreams. “Depends on what my alternatives were,” you replied.

Curley swallowed hard. He knew what alternative he wanted to give you - he’d been wanting to for a while, since before the previous night - but he was suddenly overwhelmed with doubt. He’d shared some of his past with you, but there were quite a few details he’d left out, some of which he hated to even think about. He knew he would have to divulge them if the two of you got more serious, though. You weren’t exactly a pillar of the Victor community, to be sure, but you had a sound moral code and good reasons for choosing the path you had - definitely more honorable reasons than he’d had for his choices. Much of what he’d done had been at McQuown’s behest, and while it was true he hadn’t actively participated in the Rattlesnake Canyon massacre, he had planned the rustling expedition that led to it and had done nothing much to stop Abe from that, or to stop any of the Cowboys’ more bloody exploits. He’d fancied himself a good mediator at the time - the voice of reason at the ranch - but now, in the light of day, he realized what he’d really been was more of an enabler.

Curley swore under his breath and turned away, feeling more lonely than ever. He couldn’t keep those things a secret from you, but he also couldn’t expect you to empathize with something he despised himself for. It was pointless, and he didn’t know what he’d been thinking.

“Everything ok?” you asked, noticing his sudden downcast expression.

“Yeah,” he replied stiffly. “It’s fine.”

Curley frowned and kept his silence for the rest of the ride. You weren’t sure if you had said something wrong or had missed a cue. As soon as you got back to the mill, Curley more or less disappeared, and although you were hurt and confused, you didn’t stop him.


	11. In Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - All Curley this time
> 
> Curley has a long talk with Jed and finds out some very surprising things.

A few days went by without any deliveries, and neither you nor Curley said much to the other. The morning of the 31st, Jed asked Curley to stop by his office when he had a moment.

Curley couldn’t find the old man in his office, so he tried the stable and then the storage room. He finally found him in the shed around back where he kept his still.

“Some operation you got here!” Curley marveled. “I see why Gene feels threatened.”

“Heh,” Jed laughed. “Here,” he said, handing Curley a tin cup and pouring a few ounces. “There. Take a sniff of that.”

Curley tried it. It was harsh, but without the turpentine flavor of what Calhoun had brewed at San Pablo. Probably less likely to make a man psychotic, too. “Mmm,” he hummed approvingly, and Jed poured him another couple of ounces. “Not bad,” Curley observed. “Better’n what they served at that saloon in town sure enough.” Jed huffed a chuckle. “Y’know, I saw some berries up around those hot springs at the creek that could make for a good flavor, too.”

“Ohhhh, is that what you follow Y/M/N up there to look at?” Jed smirked and winked.

Half the contents of the tin cup went down Curley’s trachea.

When he’d finally cleared his throat, he wheezed, “You knew? Did Y/N tell you? Y/M/N,” he caught himself.

Jed sat on a barrel, wiping away a tear of laughter. “I know the miss’ name. And no. Seems you talk in your sleep.”

Curley flushed deep red, wondering what else was being said around the bunkhouse.

Jed laughed. “Don’t worry, son. I don’t disapprove. I had a hunch you two might take a liking to one another. You might even say I’m a bit relieved.”

“Relieved?” Curley asked.

“Well, Y/N has been my employee for a good while now. But you might say she’s more than that. She and this mill are the closest things to children I have. I’d like to think they’ll both be looked after when I’m gone.”

“When you’re gone?”

“I’m no kid, Burne,” he laughed. “Runnin a sawmill’s hard work, and I’m sure Doc Torres will tell you I’m not getting any younger. A man gets to an age where he has to slow down a mite. Now, I never had much time or inclination for raising a family, but Y/N has the best damn mind for business I’ve found in this county, and not just for a woman. I couldn’t ask for a better heir. Still,” he sighed, “it won’t be easy. The others won’t want to be managed by a woman - at least not out in the open - and they’ll quit. And then there’s my brother, who’ll probably take her to court. It’s also a lot of work for just one person. Runnin’ a business that is.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Curley asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Might be I’m hoping you’d help.” Jed looked up. “Now I’m not saying I expect anything of ya in the way of tradition. I know how wild you cowboys are, and that’s between you and her. And heaven knows I don’t mind my own company, so I ain’t one to judge. But if I knew you’d stick around, maybe, look after things, it would do me some good. Maybe if there was something it it for ya... a share in the business, perhaps.”

“Come on, Jed, even if she did want to pull up stakes with me -“ Curley laughed nervously - “you don’t really think she’d want all her hard work going under another man’s name?”

“Well, it wouldn’t,” Jed replied, taking another sip of his brew. “They do things different out here, it’s based on Spanish law. Woman gets to hold on to what’s hers even if she does get hitched. I’ve had a mind to pass the business to her for a long while. Caleb’s alright, but he’s not going to help her out much. Most of what he has will go to the bank to pay off his debts. And those fool brothers of hers,” he waved his hand and frowned.

Jed sat back and studied him. “Does that mean you’re thinking on going that route?”

Curley shook his head. “I don’t see how I could,” he said. “I don’t have anything to offer. I wouldn’t be able to provide much. Not to mention, uh, my own personal history.”

“Well, I think its safe to say none of us, least of all Y/N, hold your past against you. A man can change and I’ve seen enough to be convinced of that. Now, I’m not ignorant of what you San Pablo boys got up to—“

“I doubt you know all of it,” Curley interrupted. “And I’m sure Y/N doesn’t.”

“She’s the one who told me,” Jed said. “Right after I hired ya. Including something pretty bad about a bunch of _vaqueros_ in a canyon.” Jed looked at him seriously over his glasses, and Curley’s eyes widened. _She’s known the whole time,_ he thought, incredulously. _And brought me_ _home anyway._ “That’s why I took the liberty of writing to your sheriff there,” Jed continued.

“Johnny,” Curley murmured. “When was this?”

“A John Gannon, yes.” Jed said. “Shortly after you started, after Y/N found out. He confirmed that had happened, but he told a different story, said you hadn’t been part of that business and had tried your best to talk the others out of it. That you were the only reason the gang was tolerated as long as it was, and had tried your best to be a voice of reason. Also said you’d stood up to McQuown at the end and saved his own life though McQuown had been like a brother to ya. And that the town owed its freedom in large part to you.

“Burne, I don’t condone rustling or stage robbing or whatever else your company may have gotten up to in Utah,” Jed said, “but it takes a good bit of character to stand up and fight your way back to the right path. There’s also worse sins than loyalty even if it is misplaced. I can also tell ya that Y/N feels a bit badly for how she judged you at first. I hope you wouldn’t hold that against her. She’s a loyal thing, too... was just lookin’ out for me.”

For once in his life, Curley was speechless. He merely shook his head.

“It’s your choice, son,” Jed said gently. “You might find that providin’ ain’t as hard as you think _if_ that’s what you’re leaning toward. But either way, you don’t need to feel you’re in exile no more. I think I speak for everybody - Y/N included - when I say you’ve got friends here. And if you decide you do want more than that, for what it’s worth, you got my blessing.”

Curley went back to the bunkhouse, intending to get his coat and go for a walk to gather his thoughts. Jed had given him a lot to consider. He got as far as the tack house, though, before he realized he didn’t need to sort out anything. What he wanted had been clear ever since the trip home from Waterman, and if Y/N knew everything, there was no real reason to put it off - other than that he didn’t know if she would want the same thing he did. And there was only one way to find out. Sighing, he went to find you.


	12. Unusually Warm January**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV - 99% Reader
> 
> This is the final chapter, it’s a long’un, and it’s fluffy and smutty asf. Hope it makes it worth your while reading all this. :)

You finished making the fire and spread out your blankets, looking up at the sky again for any sign of rain. It was almost January now, and it wasn’t warm out, but you hadn’t slept well since you’d gotten home from Waterman and sometimes the fresh air helped fill in for peace of mind. You sat next to the hot spring with your back against a rock and lit a cigarette.

Part of it was the talk you’d had with Jed. He’d mentioned leaving you the mill before, but he was often several cups of whiskey in when he said it, so you’d tried not to get your hopes up too far. Now that it was a real prospect, you were both thrilled and overwhelmed, questioning whether you could manage it as well as he did and whether you’d have a legal battle with his brother on your hands. You wondered whether, if it came to it, it might not be better to just sell and do something else, maybe somewhere else.

What was really eating at you, though, was the situation with your work partner.

It had seemed like there was something he’d wanted to say. The rest of the way home, though, he’d been uncomfortably quiet. You wondered if maybe you’d offended him in some way. It had looked like he’d wanted to talk, but he hadn’t, and since you’d been home it had seemed he was in a bad mood and avoiding you. You wondered if maybe there was someone else, or worse, that after what you’d shared, he was no longer interested even in your friendship. It was a sad side effect of the life you’d chosen that you weren’t able to get very close to many people, and the thought of not even having him as a friend felt almost unbearable.

You leaned back against a rock and shoved your hands in your pockets, inhaling deeply and watching the first stars come out and the full moon rise. Your mind was full, but the creek’s music and fresh air were already working their magic on your nerves. At the very least, you could get a decent night’s sleep and let tomorrow - and the new year - take care of its own troubles.

~~~~~~

A low drawl snapped you out of your thoughts. “There you are. Thought maybe I could find you here.” You looked up. A rush bolted through you at the sight of him, but you forced it down.

“You were looking? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. May I?” Curley asked, gesturing to the ground beside you.

“Be my guest,” you replied. He sat down and lit a cigarette in the fire you’d made. He looked around at your campsite. “You fixin’ on sleepin’ out here?”

“I do sometimes,” you said. “I, uh, didn’t sleep so great last night. Sometimes the fresh air helps.”

“It’s pretty chilly out here,” he observed. “Might even frost tonight.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” you said. “It’s been pretty dry.”

“Still,” he said, “it’s—“

“Curley, did you come up here to talk about the weather?” you asked gently.

“No.”

“Then what’s on your mind?”

He took a long drag of his cigarette and pulled one leg up to just under his chin. Curley had a habit of sitting in positions that most would find uncomfortable, and you smiled a little despite your nerves.

“Just had a talk with the boss,” he started.

“Oh?”

“He told me your good news. Congratulations.”

“Ha, thanks,” you said. “Won’t be for a little while yet, though. Should give you some time to decide.”

“Decide what?”

“Well, whether you want to stick around and work for a woman. Lars already said he’s out, soon as he heard.”

 _So the cat was out of the bag about that, too,_ Curley thought. He wondered if it’d had anything to do with his sleep-talking. “Oh, he’s probably afraid of it gettin’ out that his lady boss can outdraw him,” he joked.

You chuckled and shrugged.

“Y/N,” Curley said. “You don’t think I’d leave for that?”

You shrugged again.

“Y/N,” he said, this time in a louder voice.

“Honestly, Curley, how should I know? You’ve been avoiding me ever since we got home. That’s your business, but don’t expect me to not draw my own conclusions.”

Curley sighed deeply. “I guess I have. But it’s not what you think. Y/N, do you know what I did for a living before I came here?”

“Yeah, you’ve told me a few times.”

“Well, I didn’t tell you all of it. There were other things—“

“Rattlesnake Canyon?” you asked, and he looked away.

“Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t know you knew, and I didn’t know how you’d take it. But I guess I knew I couldn’t keep that a secret for a lifetime.”

“For a lifetime?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Yeah.” His voice softened. “Which, uh, brings me to what Jed wanted to talk to me about.”

“That he wants you to have a share of the mill?” He nodded. “He thinks a lot of you, Curley,” you said. “He has ever since you started.”

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” Curley said. “But at the moment I’m more concerned with how you feel about that. You’ve worked hard for this. I’ve only been here a short while. Doesn’t seem exactly fair to you.”

“I know,” you said. “But...I’m also a realist. The way I see it, Jed’s not wrong that running a mill is a lot of work, and I guess I wouldn’t mind sharing that load with the right person. Also, I hate to admit it, but it might look better to some customers to have a man involved. It is what it is, and I like I said, I don’t mind sharing if it helps both of us...and if it’s incentive for you to stay on.”

“So, that’s how you see it? Us being business partners?“

“Curley, what do you want from me?” you demanded. “First the other night, and then nothing for days, and now _I’ve_ got to be the one to put my cards on the table? You want to talk about what’s fair to me? You’ve been blowing hot and cold for the last week, and—”

Curley responded to your rant by blowing quite hot, cupping the sides of your face and kissing you fiercely. You were still confused and a little pissed off, but you couldn’t help but melt into his touch, sighing softly. The kiss went on and on, and by the time he pulled away, still holding you in his arms, you couldn’t really bring yourself to be aggravated with him anymore.

“There. Is that better?” he asked, smiling, a hint of cockiness creeping into his voice.

“It is if you think you can keep it up,” you said, smirking but also serious.

“Would you let me keep it up?” he asked softly. “Because...that’s what I want from you. This. And what there is when we’re just driving the rig out there. And what happened the other night. All of it. Right now and always. And not just as business partners, either.” He smiled and pulled back, his blue eyes twinkling. “There, how’s that for cards on the table?”

You were stunned by his openness. “Curley...” you started.

“You don’t have to answer me right now,” he said gently. “Just think about it. And I’m not saying you’d need to stay home and keep a house, unless you wanted to. We all looked after ourselves at San Pablo, I know how to mend my own clothes and do all that. I even know how to cook. Why, Abe used to say my family recipe for baked beans—”

“Curley?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop,” you laughed. “I want that, too. What you said.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

His face relaxed into a huge grin. “Hmm, well, when?”

“I dunno,” you said, trying to suppress a case of the giggles and failing a little bit. “Name a time.”

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” he asked, his voice seeming to get lower. “Unless that’s too soon?”

“Hmm, New Year’s Day,” you observed. “Sounds pretty romantic.”

“Never let it be said I don’t try,” he said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. You returned the kiss with equal eagerness, running a hand gently through his wavy hair. He hummed contentedly.

“Actually,” you said, “I guess I don’t really need to stay out here after all.”

“No?” He looked slightly disappointed.

“Well,” you said tentatively, “I guess I don’t have as much on my mind as I did earlier.” He smiled back, catching your meaning.

“Oh? Well I’m glad to hear that,” he replied. “But I might have to stay myself. See, I brought some food and things with me. Thought my partner might be hungry, and I hate to see things go to waste.”

“You brought food?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, I hope you don’t think I was presuming...I thought in case you needed anything or got hungry. Of course, if you needed some help ...or, uh...” he rubbed his neck “...some company.” He pointed to his horse, and you could see blankets and saddlebags. “Anyway, seems a shame to waste it.”

You grinned. “C’mon, you said. Let’s see what you brought.”

~~~~~~~

Curley may not have been presuming, but he had at least been hopeful that you’d ask him to stick around. He’d brought enough food for several men, extra blankets, and a flask of Jed’s latest brew (although you couldn’t help but smirk when you noticed there was only one tent).

While he set up the tent, you heated up the food and poured two cups of the drink.

“Do the others know you’re up here?” you asked with a grin.

“Nope.”

“Well, they’ll probably figure it out.”

“Is that bad?”

“Well, maybe not anymore.”

“Does that mean you’ve considered my proposal?” he asked. “No second thoughts?”

You smiled over your drink and shook your head. “Nope, no second thoughts.”

”Glad to hear it,” he said, grinning. A stiff wind blew by just then, and he shivered.

“You sure you want to stay out here?” you asked.

“It’s ok,” he said. “I’m kinda fond of this place. Every time I come here, I see something I like.”

You gave him a playful slap on the chest. He caught your hand and kissed the back, making you shiver, then moved up the inside of your forearm and beyond, stopping at your mouth. You caught the taste of tobacco and whiskey on his breath and moaned softly, running a hand through his hair.

“Ready to turn in?” he asked, nodding toward the tent.

“Well,” you swallowed. “I was kind of thinking about washing up before bed.”

Curley raised an eyebrow. “I see,” he said. “Reckon you, uh, might like some company?”

You smiled shyly. “Sure,” you said.

You grabbed a towel and wash cloth from your bag and led him to the spring’s main pool.

“Now, I seem to recall,” Curley admonished, his accent thickening, “Someone askin’ if I knew the meanin’ of privacy. I’ll have to ask that you avert your eyes while I disrobe.” Rolling your eyes, you turned around.

You removed your layers of clothing, fully aware this time of his eyes probably on you anyway despite your agreement. You then stepped into the hot water. The contrast between the heat of the water and the chill of the air caused every square inch of skin on your body to tighten, a sight that (as you’d guessed) didn’t escape Curley, and he had to suppress a low growl.

A few moments later, you felt him behind you, his hands gently stroking your arms as he nuzzled your neck. You looked up at him shyly, the realization that you were both very alone - and very naked - hitting you. He seemed to be thinking the same, getting a sheepish smile as well.

Standing in the middle of the hot water, you soaped up your washcloth and began running it over his chest and around his shoulders, timidly at first, but quickly forgetting your shyness as you admired his form. He was slim but incredibly well built, with an even dusting of soft brown hair covering tanned skin and well-defined muscles. You ran the thin cloth all over him, watching the way his muscles tensed and his lip pouted as you explored. He took the opportunity to unpin your hair, and you sighed as his warm hands ran through it, then continued down your body, with the bar of soap, washing here and there.

Curley had already been half hard when he started undressing, and his full arousal was now brushing against your hip. Biting your lip and smiling, you wiggled your hips experimentally, and he growled. Enjoying the reaction, you wiggled again. “Hmm, someone’s having trouble staying still while she gets her bath,” he remarked. “Maybe this will help.”

In a flash, he had you picked up and deposited on a rock formation on one side of the pool and was setting upon you with soapy hands.

“Curley, I’m freezing up here,” you complained, shivering now that your wet skin was out of the hot water and in the late December air.

“Hmm, how’s this?” he said, moving you a bit lower, so your back was pressed against the boulder and your front against his chest.

“Almost,” you said, edging up a little and wrapping your legs around him for leverage. “There, that’s better.”

The only problem with this new position was that you were now wrapped around Curley and he could feel your hot core pressing right up against him. “Y/N,” he gasped, breathing heavily. For a man so adept at teasing others, he was adorably easy to get riled up in this context, and you couldn’t help but enjoy being the one to wind him up for a change.

“Oh. Is that going to be a problem?” you teased. “Let me see what I can do. Maybe if I move a little _this_ way,” you started, tilting your hips and keeping your eyes on his as you felt your core glide along him. He groaned your name, pressing back against you and nipping your neck roughly. Reaching down, you ran your thumb over the weeping head of his cock, then teased it around your entrance, holding his gaze and biting your lip in the way you knew made him crazy. Curley shivered and groaned your name again as you arched your back.

“Are you sure you want this?” he whispered. His words were gentle, but his tone was not, and you realized he was just barely holding back.

You nodded emphatically.

Curley needed no further encouragement. Capturing your lips in a possessive kiss, he coated himself in your wetness and began pressing into you. You clung to him, whimpering loudly at the stretch. You had expected a snug fit, but this was way beyond your expectations, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to take all of him. He went slowly, though, giving you time to get used to him and whispering encouragement, and you were able to relax enough for him to finally bottom out. The burn from the stretch gave way to an incredible feeling of fullness, and you clenched around him reflexively, causing him to groan loudly, the relief of finally being inside you enough to make him almost spill himself then and there.

“Wait, sweetheart,” he cautioned, as you wiggled your hips, desperate to feel him move. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, pressing against you and the boulder so the only things you could process were his hungry mouth and his cock impossibly deep and thick inside you.

Finally, he started moving, but infuriatingly slowly. He had that damn smirk back on his face now, and you realized he wasn’t struggling to control himself anymore - he was teasing you, as payback. Two could play that game. Smirking up at him, you clenched hard around him, and his eyes lit up once he saw the game was still on.

“Oh, is that how it is, honey?” he whispered, and you knew you were in for it. He snapped his hips into yours, angling himself to brush across your g-spot and making you cry out. “That’s what I thought,” he drawled in self-satisfaction. “Is that what you’re wantin’? A little more?” His accent was heavy with arousal now, and you nodded emphatically. “Mmm, I don’t think so, sweetheart,” he drawled. “Somebody -” he withdrew and pushed in roughly again “- needs to learn a lesson,” he teased, trailing scruffy lips across your chin and down your neck as he resumed his slow pace. You whimpered, desperate for more, but he had you firmly pinned against that boulder and you couldn’t do much more than hang on and whine as he moved, pulling back then stretching you to capacity again so very slowly. “Dammit, Curley,” you swore.

“Mm-mm, no, that’s not it.”

“I need more,” you begged. “Please!“

“Ah, that’s a little better,” he teased. “Since you’re askin’ nicely, let me see what I can do.” You rolled your eyes at him echoing your tease from earlier.

Reaching down, he brushed your clit lightly with his fingers as he continued his torture. You cried out in relief at the tiny bit of additional stimulation, but it still wasn’t anywhere near enough. Looking down, you watched where you were joined, at his thick shaft as he slowly pushed into you. His eyes widened as he realized what you were watching. Most women, even the working ladies in Warlock whose company he’d sometimes sought, shied away from open enjoyment of sex, sometimes even insisting on a sheet or other covering for modesty. Seeing you completely exposed to him and practically begging for his cock was a bridge too far for his self-control, and he started thrusting faster, wanting to give you more of himself, as much as you could stand, to fill you until you begged for mercy. Gripping your thigh, he drove in deeper and picked up the pace of his rubbing. You moaned loudly in relief, clenching around him. Each cry from you made him hotter, and before long, he was also groaning helplessly, punctuating his thrusts with hot kisses and filthy whispers in your ear.

“Like this, honey? Is this what you needed?” he cooed. 

“God yes,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

“Feel so good around me, honey,” he growled. “You like havin’ me inside you, sugar?”

“Fuck, Curley,” you moaned, past the point of any more intelligent speech.

“Mmm, I think that’s a yes. You’re close, ain’t ya? You gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

“Dunno,“ you panted. “You gonna fuck me like I -ah!- need you to, or tease me all night?”

“Ooh careful, honey,” he warned. “Keep askin’ like that and you’re liable to get it.”

“Doubt it,” you gasped smugly. “You’re all talk. You’ll probably ju—”

To your relief, he snapped up your bait before you could finish the sentence, thrusting his full length into you with a growl. Finally giving free reign to his need, he gripped your hip hard enough to bruise as he drove his swelling cock into you, fingers rubbing your clit in firmer circles in perfect rhythm with his cock brushing against your g-spot with every thrust. It felt incredible, and combined with his continued filthy drawling in your ear, it didn’t take much before he was pounding you through the waves of an orgasm so intense you thought you might black out. As your body clenched around him, Curley thought about the fact that you were right there out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see him fucking you absolutely silly, and that was it. Groaning loudly into your mouth, he grabbed your hips and pulled you against him, giving you several hard final thrusts before coming deep inside you. You whimpered as he held you fast in place, rocking his hips and groaning as he flooded you with every drop he had to give.

Curley leaned forward against the boulder and you, pressing hot kisses to your lips as you recovered from your intense end. He felt so good against you, you never wanted to separate, but after a moment, the chill of the evening brought you back to reality.

He let you down, and you instantly wobbled. Laughing gently, he caught you and carried you back to the warm tent, where the two of you dried off and dressed hurriedly, shivering. Once under the blankets, it was a while before you fell asleep...one kiss or touch led to another, and it was soon obvious that your plan of getting a decent night’s sleep had backfired badly. You were hardly disappointed, though. Eventually, you both drifted off to sleep, you draped across his chest like that first night and him holding your left hand, smiling as he traced around the base of your third finger, which by that time the following evening would carry a simple gold band.

Two weeks later, a letter arrived at the sheriff’s office in Warlock, Utah, addressed to John Gannon. It was in Curley’s familiar intricate script and said only:

_Dear Johnny,_

_Just made it home. Found what I was looking for and a good deal more. Thanks for putting in a good word, and don’t be a stranger._   
  
_Yours truly,_

_Curley_

_P.S. Let us know if y’all need help rebuilding that saloon_.


End file.
